


Chileon Smut

by YoungMrKusuma



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Fluff and Smut, Multi, NSFW, Other, Rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungMrKusuma/pseuds/YoungMrKusuma
Summary: A belated 2nd Birthday gift for my good buddyRat2rrj! Several months late because I’m a monster >_<Chileon is the main ship of this fic. The others in the tags are mentioned only. (NSFW)
Relationships: Fujisaki Chihiro/Kuwata Leon, Fukawa Touko/Naegi Makoto, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo, Kirigiri Kyoko/Celestia Ludenberg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Chileon Smut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ratty-Rodent (Rat2rrj)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rat2rrj/gifts).



> I know, I know, this isn’t Naekawa Project Part 10. I was working on that and this one at the same time, so don’t worry; progress is being made. There were a number of things slowing me down – I was finishing the manuscript for an original novella and I had to go for surgery on my left hand – but all that is done with, so it should be smoother sailing from here on out. I thank you for your patience.
> 
> Chihiro uses They/Them pronouns in this AU, which I’ve decided to make part of the Naekawa Project. Because why not. :P

It starts off as something sweetly innocent; with Fujisaki-san stealing furtive little glances at you during class, or squeaking out an adorable “Hi Kuwata-san” whenever you happen by each other in the hallways. It progresses a bit further than that once you start returning their greetings or smiling every time you saw them, and it never fails to brighten up their eyes. Thinking back on it now, the signs were all blatantly obvious. And yet somehow, the idea of them crushing on you never came to mind until one morning during baseball practice. You figured that maybe they just thought you were weird or something.

“There they are again,” one of your team members says, offhandedly, eyes turned to the bleachers where Fujisaki is observing the match along with a small crowd of others. “Seven-thirty sharp, just like clockwork, every single time.”

You don’t need to look to know who he’s talking about. You’ve noticed too, after all. “Guess Fujisaki-san’s got a thing for baseball,” you say, though you could never – for the life of you – understand why. Baseball was your talent, sure, but you honestly never got the appeal. It’s just a bunch of guys playing with sticks and balls, innuendo totally intended. Not something you’d expect Brainy, Tech-savvy Fujisaki to be into.

And then the dude just rolls his eyes like you’re fucking stupid. “They’ve got a thing for _you,_ dumbass,” he says, slicking back his hair and slipping on a blue helmet. “They never stay longer than five minutes whenever you ditch practice.”

He heads out to the bases as soon as Coach Nekomaru starts hollering for everyone to get their asses in place, but you’re frozen solid, too stunned to move. Holy crap. It is only now that everything clicks into place. Fujisaki-san likes you. All the times you’ve felt like someone’s eyes were boring holes into the back of your head. All the times you’ve turned around to see them quickly looking away. All the mousy, endearing good mornings they’ve thrown your direction, how they always seem to be flustered whenever you’re standing close while talking to Oowada or Ishimaru. Fujisaki-san _likes you_.

Coach Nekomaru starts hollering again, and you stir from your reverie, put your helmet on and get moving. _Fujisaki-san likes you._

All throughout the match, you’re keenly aware of their gaze on you. You notice how excited they get each and every time you make a pitch. It throws you off your groove (slightly), and Coach Nekomaru keeps yelling at you to focus. There’s some snickering from your teammates – a couple of whom would love to see you taken down a peg – but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed by any of that. Not when there was an absolute cutie pie in the bleachers rooting for you. You’ve probably got a stupid smile plastered on your face right now.

It stays plastered there for most of the day, long after the match ends. Through homeroom, boring lessons, lunch-break and even an awful pop-quiz that you most likely flunked (like you could give a good goddamn). And the next time Fujisaki squeaks out a hello, you flash them your widest grin and fire a pair of finger guns. Really dorky, when you actually think about it, but it works and they are utterly starstruck.

Things progress even quicker after that.

Despite how it might have appeared to Fujisaki, you’re still very new to all this. Sure, you’ve talked a lot of game about how the Grade-A hotties in your class (Maizono, Asahina and Enoshima, just to name a few) are eyeing you up, but really, that was just machismo. Guy-talk for the locker rooms so you can feel like you fit in. Fact is, you started getting nervous around Fujisaki once the truth was made known to you too. You’re just better at hiding it. Which is why you hold off on just walking up to them and asking if they’d like to date. There’s an off-chance you might be reading things wrong and that they don’t really like you in _that_ way after all. You gotta be sure first, so you don’t embarrass yourself.

Weeks go by. Those simple hellos turn into short, daily conversations, all while Fujisaki looks so happy they could burst. You drop a compliment once about their appearance and they go beet red, babbling a thank you. A stupidly long amount of time passes and you’re still too chickenshit to decide for sure if you should go for it.

Then comes the day at the gym.

All those ditched practice sessions have taken a bit of a toll on your physique, so you’ve decided to hit the weights to make up for the lost exercise. From your little chats with them, you guess that Fujisaki is probably here right now, training with Oowada and Ishimaru as part of a weekly habit. And sure enough, you see them by the dumbbell racks, looking boyish (also deliciously cute) in a sports tee and running shorts. Oowada and Ishimaru aren’t here, though. Apparently out on a study date, you would later learn.

They’re carefully hefting a sizeable dumbbell off of the racks when you casually walk up to say hi.

Big mistake. Poor Fujisaki is so shocked by your sudden arrival that they jump, and the weight slips from their grasp and onto their feet.

A sharp cry of pain. A massive pang of guilt in your chest. Immediately, you’re bent down on one knee, moving to help lift the weight off.

“Oh god, oh god.” You’re panicked as Fujisaki drops to a crouch to nurse their foot. You feel like the world’s biggest asshole right now, seeing their agonised expression and the fresh tears spilling down their cheeks.

 _I caused this_ , you think. _Leon, you fucking idiot._

“Are you alright?” You ask, stupidly. As if you couldn’t tell they were anything but alright. The look on their face is a mix of embarrassment and distress.

“It… It hurts…” is all they can let out.

“We have to get you to the ER,” you say, quickly. Just an assumption on your part; you don’t know for sure if the injury really is that serious, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. There’s a hospital not five minutes from here. Instinct takes over and before you can even think to ask if they’d be able to walk through the pain, you slip an arm under their legs and another around their shoulder, lifting them up in a bridal carry. Fujisaki yelps in surprise, blushing heavily. People around you are gaping as you rush out of there.

It only occurs to you halfway through the journey that you should have asked if they’re fine with being held like this. But Fujisaki’s fingers are bunched in your shirt, and they’re nuzzling your chest. Despite the pain they’re clearly in, there’s a small smile on their lips.

“Kuwata-san…” they intone, softly.

You hold them tighter.

*

According to the doctor, the x-rays showed no signs of fracture, fortunately enough. Fujisaki’s foot was swollen and badly bruised, though. They would need a cast and painkillers, as well as some rest. You’re helping them back to their dorm some hours later, still feeling like an asshole as you watch them amble forward with crutches. Oowada is _so_ gonna kick your ass for this, and you wouldn’t blame him for it.

But Fujisaki is as happy as a clam – in spite of everything – having you fuss over them and shower them with attention. While one half of your mind is reeling from the guilt, the other half is still back in the past, reliving the moment when they whispered your name into your shirt. You decided back at the ER that you were gonna tell them how you feel by the end of today (it’s the least you could do, after this whole rigamarole), but from the looks of things, there’s really no need to.

They know. That sweet smile on their face said everything.

At the door to their dorm, they plant a quick peck on your cheek, turning your face red. Fujisaki’s own are pretty red as well, perhaps even more so than yours.

“Goodnight, Fujisaki-san,” you say, grinning like an imbecile.

“Goodnight, Kuwata-san,” They grin back. And the door in front of you shuts gently.

There’s a spring in your step all week. It falters a little when Oowada chews you out in class for what happened (Ishimaru had been holding him back from smashing your teeth in), then returns like two minutes after. It’d be in your new steady’s feet too except… well. Their feet weren’t in the right condition for that at the moment. You start hanging out with Fujisaki at lunch. You hang out with them after school. And predictably, the old rumour mill begins to work.

Last month’s hot topic was Kirigiri-san and that Ludenberg chick. Mostly it was the assholes from the other classes chatting up a storm about it, snickering about how it was ‘no wonder they were so frigid’. And the month before that, it was – to your utter astonishment – Makoto Naegi and crabby, grouchy Fukawa. People were making fun of them too, the nosy fuckers. Now you and Fujisaki-san were at risk of being in the spotlight. Already there were whispers, unconfirmed but plausible. You don’t know what those idiots might say, but they never say anything good. So both of you agree to do your best to keep things on the down low.

No holding hands. No smooching in public.

Not until you’re sure you’re alone.

*

It never fails to surprise you how forward Fujisaki-san can be in these moments. That endearing shyness of theirs is still there, but it doesn’t stop them from always being the first to initiate any displays of affection. Always asking politely, bashfully. For hugs or kisses the first couple months of dating. Then for cuddles, once they’ve fully recovered from the gym incident. Sometimes on the school rooftop during lunch, sometimes in the comfort of their dorm. You bring up the idea of _Netflix and Chill_ offhandedly at some point, and it becomes your favourite shared pastime. Soon enough, the two of you are on a first name basis, with Chihiro whispering “Leon…” after a particularly intense make-out session atop their bed, late one evening.

It’s funny. You’re finally getting to experience everything you’ve bragged (lied) about doing with girls whenever you shoot the shit with the guys… and now you can’t tell anyone. You’re not complaining, but it is odd how things play out. It’s odd how much it doesn’t bother you.

Then again, there’s no real reason it should. Who you date and what you do is no one’s business but your own. Fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.

“Chihiro…” you whisper back breathily, watching the blush on their face deepen as they lean in again for more kisses. There’s a generic Netflix blockbuster playing on Chihiro’s laptop nearby, but neither of you are paying it any attention. There are more interesting things to focus on. The feel of their lips against yours, their thighs against either side of your hips. Running your fingers through soft, golden-brown hair. The little keening noises they make. Both of you break away for air, and they snuggle closer, resting their head against your chest. Your arm playfully snakes its way around their waist and they sigh in approval.

The shared warmth between you two in this moment is wonderful. The sound of their soft breathing is soothing, hypnotic.

It’s all nearly enough to make you forget that they’re essentially sitting on your crotch right now.

‘Nearly’ is the operant word here, unfortunately. Something at the back of your mind registers this fact and recalls the guilty little fantasies you’ve had ever since you and Chihiro started dating. None of it is anything classy: quickies in a bathroom stall, a sneaky blowjob on the back of a busy classroom, riding them atop a desk… basically the sort of fare you get from pornos. And your body responds – stiffening, twitching – before you can try and restrain yourself.

A sharp gasp from Chihiro, as they no doubt notice. Instantly, your face is burning and you’re blurting out apologies, deeply embarrassed and cursing yourself aloud for being a pervert. You’re deathly certain that you’ve not only ruined the mood but your entire relationship with them…

Except Chihiro – sweet, innocent Chihiro – is now looking at you wide-eyed with what can only be described as… well, _desire_. Raw, carnal desire. Their mouth is parted ever so slightly, and their breathing has turned to quiet pants. You would have sworn it was just wishful thinking on your part. But then they gulp. And their eyes travel downward.

“Could I…” they say, trying to muster up the nerve. “Could I see?”

A few seconds pass as you process their words. And then your hands are scrambling towards your jeans, desperate to get them off of. Chihiro’s own hands reach over to help you out of them. They’re tugging on your boxers soon enough, and out slips your shaft, fully erect.

Their eyes get wider. There is a glint in them that speaks of both excitement, fascination and wonder.

“You’re so _hard_ …”

A blissful shudder takes you as their fingers wrap around your need. They slink back into a more comfortable position so they can get a closer look. You damn near jump out of your skin when their tongue runs along the underside of it, drawing a moan from you. That first lick is tentative, experimental. Then they continue, enthusiastically this time. Base to tip, along the sides, slow and tantalizing to start with and gradually quickening. All while you’re desperately trying to keep from writhing.

Your brain is drowning in hormones for the next minute or so as their tongue explores your length. It turns to utter mush when Chihiro’s mouth meets the tip of your cock, and swallows you whole.

The cry that escapes you is animalistic. As are the sounds that follow after. You’re half-terrified that your dormmates are gonna hear, but God help you, you can barely contain your voice. The little keening noises that Chihiro had been making during your earlier make-out session start up again, not so little anymore as they devour you ravenously. Their eyes are cast up to meet yours, full of longing. Eager to please. Unable to help yourself, your hand comes to bury itself into their hair, and they go even faster.

This has to be a dream, you’re thinking. This is Chihiro we’re talking about, after all. Demure, reserved and nerdy. Fantasies aside, you could never imagine them _actually_ doing this. Yet here you are, in their room, on top of their bed while they’re greedily sucking you off.

The thought of that alone is enough to bring you close to the brink. You would never have imagined there was this side to them.

“Chi…” you murmur through shaky breaths, “I’m gonna come…”

They don’t stop. The tempo only quickens. You throw your head back involuntarily. And when you do come, it’s hard, intense and into their throat as they drink it down. All of it. Your cock twitches in gratitude as their tongue renders every inch of you clean. There’s the cutest smile on their face when they pull away from you. Your heart flutters.

Coquettishly: “Was that good?”

You take a moment to catch your breath before responding, sitting up and leaning forward with a grin.

“Very,” you say, cupping their cheek and surprising them with another kiss. It doesn’t bother you in the least where that busy little mouth has been. They get into it almost immediately, bringing you into a hug as they fall backwards onto the bed.

Your physical need has been slaked (for now), but you’re far from done. Chihiro’s pitching a tent beneath that adorable skirt, and you’re itching to return the favour.

A soft wail as your palm finds its way between their legs. You’d worry about advancing too quickly, but their hands press yours harder against their groin. Urging you to rub. Knead. They want you there. Your eyes meet again and you can see that the raw desire in them has only intensified. More keening noises as they begin to grind.

“Leon…” their tone is pleading as they bury their face into your collarbone. Your fingers work their way around the elastic of their panties to encircle their shaft. They whimper for you to keep going. Already, they are throbbing and sticky.

It becomes their turn to moan as you go slow. You get to work planting a hickey on the side of their neck, and they grow even louder. Shifting about for better access, the two of you wind up lying on your sides while you cuddle Chihiro from behind, still stroking. Those porno-quality fantasies come to mind once more. You whisper them into their ear as your pace increases, and their back starts to arch. To say nothing of their voice. If your dormmates couldn’t hear you two before, they’re definitely hearing you now.

They let out one last wail as they climax. It leaves them in short bursts, some of it staining the sheets, most of it staining your fingers. You tease the last vestiges of it out with a few final jerks, listening to them pant in relief.

Chihiro slumps bonelessly against you. A moment of peaceful quiet passes before they turn around to nestle into your shirt, beaming sweetly. Just like the day you started dating. You pull them closer, planting a kiss on their forehead. Your left hand is a sodden mess, but that doesn’t stop them from lacing their fingers with yours.

Your grasp tightens gently. They squeeze back. The sensation lasts for but the briefest instant, but it’s the best part of your evening so far. Better than busting a nut down their throat or bringing them to orgasm. Tonight could have only been this, and you’d be as happy as you are now.

Peals of hushed giggles rouse you from your reverie. The sound is lovely. “I can’t believe I’ve did this,” they say. Their cheeks glow pink once again.

Your heart grows heavy with concern. “Did you not want to? You shouldn’t be forcing yourself…”

“Ah, no!” They interject, quickly. “That’s not it. It’s just…” Their blush deepens. “I’ve wanted to for a while now. But I could never work up the courage…”

An adorable meep as you pull them into a hug. “God, you are so fucking cute,” you whisper. More flustered than ever, Chihiro looks about ready to explode in joy.

“You too,” they whisper back. Your lips come to meet theirs.

In the background, the Netflix blockbuster you’ve both forgotten drones on and on.


End file.
